


A Couple N7s

by jedirangerpenguin



Series: Immortals - A Shepard and Anderson Series [6]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Anderson Lives AU, Fluff, Gen, Light Angst, Post-Canon, Post-War, Postwar Life Adjustment, Shepard and Anderson get to be normal people with normal(ish) careers and normal problems for once, minor Anderson/Kahlee, minor Shakarian
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 08:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28722333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jedirangerpenguin/pseuds/jedirangerpenguin
Summary: It doesn’t take an N7 to figure out how to live life without the threat of the Reapers.It’s going to take at least two.A post-war Anderson Lives AU, in which two war heroes learn to live semi-normal lives, and maybe even... have fun? Featuring: Neither One Wants The Apartment, Moving On Down To Rio, and Two N7s Host A Dinner Party, among other antics.
Relationships: David Anderson & Shepard
Series: Immortals - A Shepard and Anderson Series [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2004064
Comments: 14
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The previous fic, Immortals, provides a bit of conversational context, but all you really need to know is: Anderson lived.

It took far longer than it should have to convince Shepard, who was still trying to support her weight on one crutch, to take a seat, but eventually she did. Anderson collected the hospital TV remote and turned it off as she settled in.

“So.” Anderson gestured toward her abandoned crutch. “Four days and they’re already letting you run around?”

“Anderson.”

That pulled a laugh out of him. If a Reaper couldn’t keep her down, a doctor wasn’t likely to fare better. “Alright, fair enough.” 

A part of him wanted to ask about the galaxy--how long they’d been out, what state were things in, if the Alliance had given any updates--but half a glance at her face showed she wasn’t anywhere near ready for that sort of discussion. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn’t quite ready yet either. He searched for something else. Something light, innocuous, simple.

“How’s my apartment?”

Shepard laughed. “It’s fine.”

Anderson smiled, feeling a bead of warmth in his chest. Human laughter had been so rare in the final months of the invasion; it was good to hear it again. “You’re sure? No raging parties on shore leave?”

Shepard grinned. “Oh, there was a party. But your apartment’s fine.”

“Well. Guess that’s good, since it’s your problem now.”

“What?” Shepard sat up, looking scandalized. “No.”

Anderson raised an eyebrow at the sharp change. “What?”

“I am _not_ keeping that apartment.”

“Why not? It’s a good apartment.”

“It’s _yours_.”

“I distinctly remember saying ‘It’s yours now.’”

“Yeah, and I ‘distinctly remember’ wanting to smack you over the head for that.” Anderson chuckled. “You only ‘gave’ it to me because you thought you were gonna die! And guess what, you didn’t. Deal’s off.”

Anderson grinned. _That_ was the Shepard he knew. Blunt, aggressive, not afraid to get in an argument with anyone. It was good to know the Reapers hadn’t burned it all out of her; he might have missed it. “Absolutely not. I don’t want that place back after you’ve gone and thrown a party in it. Who knows what Joker did to it.”

The start of Shepard’s angry retort stopped abruptly as she snorted with laughter. “He was pretty occupied,” she replied, and Anderson could see her fighting back a grin of her own. “I doubt he managed to damage much, besides his liver. But no, damn it. I didn’t want to stay there overnight; I definitely don’t want to _live_ there.”

Anderson shrugged. “So don’t. But it’s yours.”

“It is _not_. I don’t believe for a minute that you managed to sign the lease over to me while dodging Reapers every day, and until I see those papers-”

“It’s not a rental.”

“Goddamn it, Anderson.”

He laughed again, and Shepard smiled a bit. “Besides,” she continued, “didn’t you say Kahlee wanted you guys to ‘settle down’ there?”

The warmth that had been filling Anderson’s chest dissipated instantly with her words. He hadn't been awake long enough to think about much of anything, but the realization that he knew nothing about what had happened to Kahlee... “Yeah.”

“She’s okay,” Shepard said quickly. “I talked to her.”

As quickly as it had dropped, the warmth in Anderson’s chest was coming back, brighter. “You’ve already heard from her?”

“Yeah.” 

Based on the way Shepard smiled, he wasn’t quite managing to conceal his happiness over the matter. 

That was alright. 

“She’s already been up here,” Shepard added.

“She has?”

Shepard nodded. “We hung out for a bit. She’s _way_ too smart for you.”

Anderson laughed harder at that one. Leave it to Shepard not to be afraid to bring him down a peg. “Well, you’re not wrong." Shepard grinned again, and he couldn't keep from smiling. “Have you heard from anyone else?”

“Hackett. He’s been busy.”

Anderson nodded. “I’d hardly call that a surprise. Rebuilding?"

"Best I could tell. When he doesn't have direct orders for you, he's so goddamn _vague_."

"Well, that's probably good news. Have you heard anything from the Normandy?”

“Not yet.”

Anderson heard the faint drop in her voice, but Shepard rallied before he could say anything. “Which is a good thing, they loved that damn apartment. But based on when I messaged her...” Shepard glanced up at a clock. “Kahlee should be here in about fifteen minutes, and then she can back me up.”

If Shepard wasn't ready to talk about the Normandy... well, that was alright. Thanks to her, they'd have time for that later.

Despite concern over the Normandy, Anderson had to fight back another smile over the rest of what Shepard had said. He never would have expected Shepard to immediately contact Kahlee for him when he woke up. Maybe he should have. “You’re not doing a very good job convincing me to take it back.”

Shepard smiled. “That’s why I called in the reinforcements. You don't stand half a chance against her.”

He chuckled. "Don’t you have anything better to do than make fun of me?”

“You are not getting rid of me until the moment Kahlee walks in.”

True to her word, Shepard didn’t budge until Kahlee appeared in the doorway. Then she collected her crutches, shared a smile and nod with Kahlee, and turned to him. 

“Stay alive, old man.”

Anderson called after as Shepard clacked her way to the door. “We’re not done talking about that apartment,” he said with a grin.

“Oh yes we are!” Shepard clacked faster and turned out of sight before Anderson could respond.

He chuckled. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, chapter 2 and we are already making an unexpected detour into light angst territory. Hopefully, the next chapter or two should get us back on track 
> 
> Very mild **content warnings** for hospitals, alcohol, references to grief, and war reflections/postwar life adjustment. This chapter leans Anderson/Kahlee heavy, so heads up on that

Time always seemed to freeze in hospitals.

Medbays on a ship were different; life was always carrying on a wall or two over. More often than not, even without a clock, it was possible to tell what shift the ship was on just by who was and wasn't stopping by for a chat. But in a hospital, everyone was stuck in the same endless, isolated loop. Everyone waiting for the same thing--recovery--and wondering whether they were going to reach it. 

Luckily, Anderson hadn't had to question recovery too much. The hardest part about surviving being shot through the gut seemed to be just that--surviving. It _had_ taken a long time to get to where he could shift position without getting knives in his side. And in a galaxy that was still scraping itself up off the pavement, where painkillers were hard to come by, it seemed to take even longer. But he'd had few complications over the lengthy recovery. 

The familiar hissing of hydraulics announced Shepard’s rapid approach, diverting Anderson's thoughts. She swung around the doorway and grinned, seemingly unaware, as always, of the skeletal casing around her right leg.

Whatever had happened with the Crucible was still a mystery to Anderson. Shepard didn’t seem to remember much of what had happened after he’d blacked out on her, and she wasn’t particularly willing to share what she did know. From what he’d managed to get out of Hackett, it seemed the Crucible had gone up in some sort of explosion.

Anderson had somehow dodged the blow. Shepard wasn't as lucky. While her arms, by her report, were practically fine--and her mouth was clearly no worse for wear--her legs were another story. Her right leg in particular had gotten the worst of the blast and been broken in a number of places, none of which sounded pleasant. For Shepard, recovery seemed to require a lot of walking--with help, and then without. And Shepard’s favorite place to go on her walks seemed to be his room.

Hospitals were damn lonely. He wasn’t about to complain.

Kahlee looked up with a smile as Shepard entered. “Shepard.”

“Kahlee.”

Kahlee gestured toward a chair. “Take a seat; you must be _exhausted_ from walking all the way up here.”

“ _So_ exhausted.” Shepard easily crossed the room and dropped into a chair, grinning at Anderson the entire time. "I'll probably have to stay here for, like, four hours before I'll have the strength to walk back."

“By all means,” Anderson deadpanned, and Shepard’s grin spread.

He wasn’t about to complain, but the times when Shepard decided to hang out with him _and_ Kahlee were... something. Mostly because Kahlee insisted on joining Shepard’s game. Whatever had happened, between Grissom and the days they had spent talking before he’d woken up, they’d apparently bonded. “Kahlee’s _my_ friend now,” Shepard had insisted.

Kahlee’s grin had been a little too exuberant. As if the woman he’d known for twenty years had somehow learned something she didn’t already know about him from his loudmouthed X.O.

“Good luck,” Shepard had said. 

He’d need it. 

Kahlee nodded as the weight redistribution boot hissed and settled. "How much longer do you have with it?"

"Yesterday they told me a week," Shepard said. "I'm gonna shave it down to Friday."

"Can't stand to let an old man beat you out of the hospital?" Anderson asked. 

"Don't forget I woke up before you."

"What can I say, you're a damn good shot."

"Oh, can it."

Hours passed the same way they had for months. Kahlee told as little as she could about the outside world. Shepard and Anderson took turns sharing increasingly untrue field stories, but nothing after 2185 ever came up. When two hours had gone by, Shepard glanced at the clock, then hauled herself to her feet. "Well, I've got an appointment to get to. Can't beat you on the final if I don't show up for class." Shepard offered a lax, joking salute, and made her way out of the room. The hissing of her hydraulics dissipated quickly.

“She’s getting faster,” Kahlee observed. "You think she'll make it out Friday?"

"Nothing's stopped her yet."

"Well, when she does get out, Friday or later, we should get dinner. All three of us. Celebrate.”

Anderson fought not to sigh. As nice as the sentiment was, the idea of going _out_ , so soon... “Kahlee... I don’t know that I’m up for public appearances. I don’t even know that Shepard is.”

“I know, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

Anderson’s mouth twitched. Underneath the relief at not having to show his face in public yet, amusement and frustration battled over the implication. “I assume you have a place picked out, then?”

“I thought we could order from that Japanese place, then eat at the apartment.”

“Mhm. How much of this was Shepard’s idea?”

“None of it. But David,” Kahlee continued before Anderson could process his surprise. Her usual playful spark had vanished, replaced by the grim intensity he'd only seen her wear when talking about her students. “She’s got nothing right now. I don’t want her to walk out of the hospital and wind up alone in whatever run-down motel she can scrounge a bed at. You could offer to let her take the apartment while we take the motel, but-”

“She wouldn’t stay unless I did.”

“Exactly.”

Anderson grunted softly. “Why do I get the feeling there’s more here than you’re telling me?”

“Because there is.”

“But not about the apartment.”

“No.”

Anderson lightly shook his head. He hadn't stayed alive over the last twenty years by doubting Kahlee's instincts. "Alright.”

Shepard did, in fact, manage to get cleared for release that Friday, her boot replaced with a list of continuing exercises and strict orders to maintain them. He and Kahlee both ended up in the room when Shepard took her first boot-free step without a physical therapist. 

To the uninformed, it would have seemed that she brushed it off without issue. But Anderson saw the way her breath stopped, and apparently, so did Kahlee. When Shepard crossed toward the door, Kahlee was faster to tuck in to her side than he was.

Minutes later, the three of them stepped out into the streets. Artificial sunlight blared as Anderson took in the first sight, other than hospital walls, that he had seen since waking up.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise that the Presidium looked... the same. Same as it always had. People walked, and talked, just like they had on his final day as a Council advisor. A few started turning to look, most likely recognizing Shepard. One person made eye contact, but before Anderson had time to summon up a reaction, Kahlee’s hand was on his back.

“Car’s this way.”

Kahlee started toward the parking spot, pressing Shepard forward in a similar manner. Anderson almost wanted to smile as people quickly started averting their gazes and going back to their own business. A pair of N7s out on the street, but it was the teacher between them who put the fear of god in passersby.

Hardly a surprise.

It took 127 seconds of sitting in the skycar for Shepard to recover enough to start cracking jokes. Kahlee entertained her, giving Anderson the chance to simply look out the window.

The shine of the Presidium hadn't been just a side effect of too many lightbulbs. Maybe it was the distance, but the Presidium truly looked untouched. Shops lined the walkways, advertising merchandise in neon lights--an image of plenty, as if even Huerta Memorial wasn't functioning syringe to syringe. People talked, waved, carried their bags without a care. Smiled as though their day was no different from any other day in the past decade. 

It looked like they hardly even knew a war had been fought, much less won. Maybe they did, and had merely had the time they needed to adjust; he’d been out a long time, and in a hospital ever since. Maybe they'd had time to process, time to mourn, and had started to move forward. Or maybe no one had really adjusted. Just had to keep pressing on, day after day, as if everything was normal. Day-to-day life never had come with a pause button. 

Maybe that was it. Things in the hospital had been so repetitive and isolated, he hadn’t really had the chance to confront the fact that the galaxy, that _life_ , was continuing. He hadn’t...

Well.

He had to now.

Shepard’s jokes and banter slowed dramatically as they approached the Strip. Kahlee pressed them both forward when it looked like neither was going to walk, and typed in the code for them as they reached the apartment. Kahlee took the first step through the door, carrying her takeout bag over to the kitchen counter, and it took Anderson a moment to follow suit.

Everything was still there. The punching bag that had always seen a bit more action after the particularly bad standoffs with Udina. The stools at the bar that he'd broken in after the Alchera report. But thankfully, it didn't have the cold, sterile feel it had had when he'd cleaned up and prepared to ship out to Earth. The throw pillows on the couch had all been shifted into one corner, the one Kahlee liked to sit at when she reviewed curriculum while visiting. There were a handful of dishes in a drying rack, a blanket draped haphazardly over the back of an armchair. Things showed change, even just a bit, unlike everything they'd passed on the way in.

For the moment, it was enough to get him moving. 

"So, you guys hungry now?" Kahlee asked as they began unpacking the food. 

"I just want to eat something that's not fucking hospital food." Shepard had finally joined them at the counter. 

"Get plates then," Anderson replied. "I assume you know where they are."

No quip. Anderson frowned and looked up. Shepard had merely crossed to the proper cabinet and silently started pulling out plates. He glanced at Kahlee, wondering if his tone had come off wrong, but Kahlee shook her head and shrugged. 

Dinner passed a bit... quieter, than he'd expected. Every time he turned his head, Anderson was confronted with something else he'd never expected to see again. And Shepard was still a lot quieter than normal, which made it harder to distract himself. 

Kahlee carried a lot of the conversation, sharing stories about Grissom and her students. He expected Shepard to light up at some of the biotic tales--hell, even he'd been fully distracted from the piano sitting in the corner--but she hardly cracked a smile. Kahlee turned to look at him. 

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I feel like a drink. Finally got my N7s back, I think that's worth celebrating."

Anderson caught on immediately and pulled himself to his feet. "I'll go take a look. There’s still got to be _something_ around here.”

He went and looked behind the bar, and a half-drunk bottle of cheap tequila caught his eye. Cheap, _crappy_ tequila. It definitely hadn't come from his stock, and it wasn't the sort of thing Kahlee would drink either. He stepped back around the fireplace, holding the bottle up. 

“Shepard.”

Shepard finally lit up in a grin. Good. “Yeah?”

He gestured with the bottle, deciding to play it up just a bit. “In my apartment?”

“My apartment, remember?”

“Not if this is the kind of trash you’re going to put in it.”

Shepard snorted. “Says the man who put in the color vomit piece upstairs.”

Anderson set the bottle down in front of Shepard, and she immediately picked it up and started unscrewing the lid. “I’m not taking artistic criticism from someone who willingly bought _that_.”

“It was wartime, Anderson!” She took a shot straight from the bottle. “Cost half my salary.”

“No it didn’t.”

Shepard cracked another grin over the bottle, and Anderson returned to the bar, fishing out a brandy and a couple glasses for him and Kahlee. 

"So," Kahlee said after drinks had been poured, raising her glass. "To no more hospital food?"

Shepard sat up and practically launched herself forward to tap her bottle against Kahlee's glass. "A-fucking-men."

Anderson chuckled and lightly tapped his glass against Kahlee's when she offered it. "Amen indeed."

Things quickly settled down again as the evening carried on. Shepard got caught up in something on her omni-tool, and Kahlee pulled out the chess board. 

Anderson bit back as much of his frown as he could when Kahlee moved to checkmate him an hour later. He’d survived the end of the goddamn galaxy, but it looked like some things were never going to change.

“You were saying something? Admiral?” Kahlee said. Her face and tone were nearly blank, but a familiar delight danced in the corners of her eyes.

Always made it worth it. But it didn’t make it easier to stomach.

“You know that’s not how real combat works,” he muttered habitually, plucking his king off the board and starting to put the pieces away. Kahlee’s smile broke free moments before Shepard’s drunken snigger.

“Nice job, Admiral, your wife just beat you at chess.”

Moving support beams took less effort than keeping his expression in check. Anderson glanced over, but Shepard was stretched out along the couch and staring blankly at the ceiling, apparently unaware she'd said anything ridiculous. 

"Kahlee beats _everyone_ at chess," he replied, keeping his voice even. Kahlee smiled, but Shepard didn't react. He caught sight of the bottle hanging from Shepard's hand, which was much emptier than it had started. "Don't you think you've had enough?"

"Pfffffffffffff. I spent a year on a ship with James."

Anderson froze, hand halfway between the board and the box, and locked his eyes back to Shepard. She hadn't mentioned the Normandy, or her crew, since the day he'd woken up. 

"Well, that was a while ago," he carefully probed. Shepard raised the bottle again and failed to reply. 

After a shared glance, Kahlee stood up. "If you want to see me embarrass David, I can do a lot better than a chess match," she offered. Shepard jumped to her feet and clumsily set the bottle down. 

"I gotta see this." 

Kahlee directed Shepard toward the room with the punching bag, hanging tight to Shepard's right side. Whatever Kahlee was about to dig up, it had to be better than letting Shepard keep drinking. Anderson collected the bottle and stored it away, trying to convince himself. 

He'd finished putting the chess board away, and was partway through storing the remaining food when Kahlee re-emerged without Shepard in tow. "Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah, she's crashing hard. She might already be asleep. I figured it's better for her to stay down here, with her leg."

Anderson straightened and closed the fridge. "So, what'd you do to embarrass me?"

A smile played at Kahlee's eyes. "Nothing."

Anderson shook his head. "Can't believe they put you in charge of kids."

"She laughed."

There was a shift in Kahlee's tone, and when he turned to look, the smile on her face had gone softer, knowing. The joking retort died on his lips. She was right. Anything that got Shepard to stop being so... _silent_ , was worth it. Anderson found himself reaching for Kahlee's hand.

"Well. That's good."

Kahlee shifted her hand to interlace their fingers. "You think you're ready to turn in?"

For an intentionally open apartment, the walls started to feel very close. He hadn't set foot on the upper floor yet. Barely even looked at the stairs. Half the place still to go, and not a lot of time to process it.

"Yeah."

Anderson set his toothbrush down and looked out to the bedroom. Kahlee was sitting up on the bed, engrossed in her datapad. It was another familiar sight he'd never expected to see again, and probably the worst. The pillows sitting to her right mocked him. After a year on the ground, and months on a hospital bed that was frankly more uncomfortable, the soft familiarity should have been welcoming. 

Instead, he found himself walking out to the balcony. Bars of orange light streaked across the darkened floor below, from the nighttime lights of the Silversun Strip pouring in between the blinds. The balcony railing cut into his palms as he started methodically evening out his breathing. In for four, out for four. In, then out. 

Faint footfalls announced Kahlee's approach a few minutes in. She stepped up beside him and ran her hand softly along his spine. “You okay?”

Usually it was effortless to summon up a mask when someone asked a question like that. But in the middle of the night, in the apartment, standing next to Kahlee... it was harder. “Yeah.”

“David.”

He almost smiled at the knowing tone, but the tension that had been creeping from his hands and up his arms was starting to reach his face. "I don't know."

Kahlee didn't answer, waiting for him to elaborate. Anderson slowly looked around the apartment. The piano in the corner, the metal sculpture a few feet away, the coffee table down in the floor, the telescreens... they were all loads that he'd had to release. He'd had to drop the weight of the entire apartment, and so much more, to find enough strength to pick up the remnants of his home planet. Much less try to carry it forward. “I gave up on this place, down there,” he finally murmured. “Gave up on a lot of things. Coming back feels...”

“Wrong?”

It was a massive understatement, but it wasn't untrue. “Mm.”

Kahlee watched him quietly. The yellow glow of passing skycar lights crossed her hair several times as she sized him up. She finally looked down at his hand, and gently got him to release the bannister. She wove her fingers between his and looked back up to his face. "Were you one of those things?” she asked quietly. 

Anderson looked out the window, and didn’t reply.

When she eventually realized he wasn't going to speak, Kahlee gave a slight, crooked smile and squeezed his hand. “Good thing Shepard was there to keep you around, then. You did always say she was the best.”

The smile did manage to break its way through that time. Barely. But barely was enough. "Mm. Just don't let her know I said it," he said. "It'll go-"

The sound of Shepard snoring loudly emanated from the floor below.

Instantly, all the tension in his body snapped and broke. Anderson dropped his head and had to catch himself on the bannister as he doubled over, laughing.

Kahlee smiled softly. “There’s the rest.”

His smile hurt his cheeks. He hadn't laughed that hard since... god, had to be when Shepard had sent him that damn video down on Earth. Anderson pulled his head back up and looked at Kahlee, unable to stop grinning. “Mm?”

“When's the last time you slept without another soldier at your back, or just down the hall? How did you think tonight would go without her here?"

His grin faded to a smile as he looked back out over the balcony. “Didn’t really think that far.”

Kahlee squeezed his hand again, then started walking toward the stairs. “Come on.”

"Mm?"

"Let's go back downstairs. We can stay on the couch and watch Star Trek until you pass out."

Anderson snorted as he followed her to the steps. "You'll pass out before I do."

"Keep thinking that, ol-"

"Don't you _dare._ "


End file.
